


Guilty Pleasure

by DktrAgonizer



Category: Persona 4, The Darkness (Games)
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, M/M, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6277222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DktrAgonizer/pseuds/DktrAgonizer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So," Adachi says, and the grip on Johnny's throat slackens a bit. He takes in a deep breath in the respite and god, god it burns so good. He blinks away the tears collecting in his eyes, and the spots in his vision fade. "You do this often?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Multiverse rp twitter leads to fun and strange things, such as weird crackships and magic that makes you one of the undead for a little bit sometimes.

His throat hurts and he knows, he _knows_ it’s going to bruise and fuck, he’s going to have to wear something with a high collar for the next few days. They'll all know either way, but at least they won't have to see it. And maybe they won't say anything.

His hands shake as Adachi's hands wrap around his throat again. He's kneeling on the floor, head tilted back to bare his throat. Adachi's knelt in front of him, one knee pushed firmly against Johnny's crotch. His thumbs graze over Jonny’s adam’s apple before pushing right into the hollow, and he _squeezes_. It’s wonderful, the way he can’t breathe, the way it makes him feel lightheaded and weightless (and christ does he feel so gross for it, he always does).

"So," Adachi says, and the grip on Johnny's throat slackens a bit. He takes in a deep breath in the respite and god, _god_ it burns so good. He blinks away the tears collecting in his eyes, and the spots in his vision fade. "You do this often?"

"I trrry not to, not t-to make a habit of it," he wheezes. Adachi snorts and one hand leaves his throat to trail down his chest. His hand slips under Johnny’s shirt, fingers running along his stomach and sliding sideways and down to dig at his hip.

"I bet you've got a lot of scars, don't you?" Adachi asks, and the smug tone dripping from his every damn word is infuriating. "That's what you're into, isn't it?"

"What about you?" Johnny asks, letting his head fall forward a little so he can look at the smug bastard in the eye. His mouth is upturned into a smirk, as always. What he'd give to wipe it off of him. 

Even his laugh is infuriating. "Oh, not really. I prefer to be the one giving the _push_." The other hand leaves Johnny's throat and then he's pulling the shirt up. No, no, he doesn’t want his skin exposed, that’s not why he came here. But he can’t just back away and leave, and he’s not going to give Adachi the satisfaction. Johnny lifts his arms above his head, but his heart's in his goddamn throat now because he's going to see his arms, he's going to _see them_ -

His breath catches once the shirt's off. He lowers his arms again, slowly, and Adachi's mouth widens into a grin."What have we here?" he asks, running his hand along one of Johnny's arms. "Haha, are these _bite_ scars? What could these be from, huh?"

"A big fffucking mistake." Johnny squirms, part of him wanting to snatch his shirt off the floor and cover back up. Adachi digs his knee down and Johnny winces, all his breath leaving him at once. He’d been able to ignore the pressure earlier, but now that his throat’s being left alone he’s aware of just how uncomfortable it is. If he’d just fucking _move_ against him -

Adachi's fingers dig at one of the long scrape scars. There's a sharp pain and Johnny smacks his hand away almost on instinct. "Jjjesus, don't - don't DO that!"

"Aw, why not?" Adachi tries to look hurt, but he can't quite wipe the grin from his face. "I thought that was what you wanted? You like the pain, don't you?"

"I d-don't - nnnot for -"

He sighs. "If we just stick to the throat, it's going to be so _boring_."

"Crrry me a river." Johnny half hugs himself, palms of his hands smoothing over the scars. Adachi's watching him with some amusement, but he can feel the man’s irritation setting in, too. He's tired of just sitting here and taking this, of being looked at this way. Fine. If Adachi wants something to spice this all up, he'll get it.

Johnny practically throws himself forward, his hands clenching on Adachi's shoulders. He catches a brief glance of a wide-mouthed grin before he presses their mouths together. His heart’s thumping away at a mile a minute and it crosses his mind that maybe this was a stupid idea.

Adachi’s teeth catch and pull on his bottom lip. Johnny jerks his head back as he bites down - not real hard, but hard enough to hurt. “What’s the matter?” Adachi asks, one eyebrow quirked in a way that’d look almost comical on anybody else. “The mouth too sensitive for ya? Well, you’re the one who moved in _first_ , remember.”

Yeah, okay, bad plan. The piece of shit was probably expecting it, too. What, did he _really_ think a kiss would wipe that grin from his face? Good goddamn going, Powell. His hands are still on Adachi’s shoulders though and he flexes his fingers, digging them in as much as he can through the fabric of his jacket and shirt.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Adachi asks as Johnny wiggles around, trying to get friction between his crotch and Adachi’s knee since the asshole isn’t moving anytime soon.

“Shut up, jjjust shut up -” He’s at a complete loss for what else to do because, honestly, he’s never been good at this stuff. It’s better to let other people take the lead, but here he is with nothing but a bruised throat and an uncomfortable pressure building down below. Instead of thinking about it, he leans forward and mashes his lips against Adachi’s again.

This time, he’s expecting the teeth. Hands grip at his waist as Johnny lets him bite at his lips. He wonders if his mouth will be a bloody mess after this (and part of him hopes so, wants it more than anything). “Come on, Johnny,” Adachi says, with Johnny’s lip in-between his teeth. “Aren’t you going to fight back?”

He can feel the tremors starting up in his hands again and he clamps them as tight as he can on Adachi’s shoulders to keep them still. He wants to sit back and let Adachi lead, but it looks like he’s not going to. Johnny knows he’s doing it on purpose and it’s so damn aggravating.

Alright, alright. Maybe he can do this. He leans in more and nips, hesitantly, at Adachi’s lip. He feels his own lip get released as Adachi laughs incredulously into his mouth. “Is that the _best_ you’ve got? Oh, man, you’re hopeless.”

Adachi rocks back on his heels, and his knee finally leaves Johnny’s crotch. The release of the pressure is both irritating and relieving, but he pushes it aside as Adachi shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Come on, you can do better than that, can’t you? I’m starting to think you don’t really want this.”

He’s equal parts close to getting up to leave and just punching him in the face. Hell, _that_ might actually give him some pause - but no, he can’t bring himself to do something that drastic. With his luck, he’d end up hurting his hand more than Adachi’s face, anyway. Johnny takes a deep breath, sparing only one wince at the pain it elicits from his throat. Yeah, he’s going to be feeling that for a few days.

“Alright, just - give me a moment.” Talking’s getting harder, too, as the soreness really sets in. Adachi watches him, waiting as patient as you please. Johnny relaxes the grip on his shoulders and, hands still shaking, move to shove Adachi’s jacket off. It earns him an eyeroll, but Adachi wordlessly shrugs the jacket off and lets Johnny help him out of the shirt, too.

His skin is remarkably unblemished and Johnny feels a twinge of jealousy. There should be _something_ , some sort of imperfection, something he can focus on and pick at. His own body’s so visibly fucked up, after all, it’s not fair. The thought crosses his mind that he could fix this, he could _make_ something lasting, something to be picked at again and again later -

Johnny’s stomach twists in on itself with the thought. It’s an unusual one for him, and he’s not sure what to do about it. Adachi, he thinks as he runs his hands along the man’s sides, is perhaps not the best influence. The feeling of running his fingers over Adachi’s ribs is pleasant, comforting, and he resigns himself to keep his hands there for the moment.

After a beat, Adachi lifts one hand to hide a yawn and Johnny’s lips twist into a scowl. “Oh, _fine_ , y-you piece of -” There’s a sudden surge of anger in him, and the feeling is both unfamiliar and exciting. He leaves his left hand on Adachi’s side and brings his right up to rake back through his hair. It’s short and spiky, but just long enough to grip, and he uses it to force Adachi’s head back.

There’s no small satisfaction from seeing Adachi’s eyes go wide as the back of his head thunks hard against the tv screen (because of _course_ they’re doing this in front of a television, he’d _insisted_ ). Adachi falls back onto his ass, his hands leaving Johnny’s waist to support himself until he wiggles so his back is against the tv. His legs straighten out in front of him and Johnny moves to straddle his lap.

“That’s better,” Adachi says approvingly as Johnny settles. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His nerves are tingling and he knows this isn’t going to last and he’s going to be horrified at himself later, but _god_ is he angry. When their lips meet again, this time Johnny’s the first to introduce teeth. Adachi hums approvingly into his mouth as Johnny nips at him.

The hand on Adachi’s side presses in, his fingers seeking the little divots between his ribs. He keeps the other one in his hair, because there’s texture there, too, and it’s nice. Adachi’s arms circle around him and Johnny can feel the nails starting to scrape down his back.

Adachi’s tongue darts out to run across Johnny’s lip and he nearly bites down onto it. A shudder runs through him as their tongues meet. He’s going to be sick, he thinks as Adachi’s nails run across his spine. Nothing he’s doing here is good, he’s not going to be able to _hide_ this and the rest of them will know, even if Adachi doesn’t sing about it all afterwards (and oh god he’d better not, he’s not sure he could handle that).

“Muuuch better,” Adachi mumbles eventually, tongue safely back in his own mouth. Johnny goes for the biting method again, because wrong or not, Adachi reacting to the aggressive approach is helping. Sure, he’d rather stick to the receiving end, but there’s something strangely satisfying about the give-and-take.

He bites down hard enough to taste blood and Adachi flinches. Johnny immediately reels back, mouth spilling out apologizes. “Shit, Johnny,” Adachi laughs, bringing two fingers to his lip to dab at the blood. It’s not a lot, but it’s got to be sore. “I guess you are into this after all, huh? Good for you.”

Johnny struggles with his tongue for a few seconds, wringing his hands in front of him. Finally, he manages to get out, “A-are you okay, we can, I-I-I can get something for that -”

Adachi rolls his eyes again. “Oh, come on, just when it got interesting. You’re really bad at this.” He leans forward so that he’s not against the tv anymore. He catches Johnny’s mouth with his and bites down, hard, until Johnny can feel the blood welling from his own lip. Adachi moves his face down, trailing his mouth from one shoulder to the other and leaving little nips along the way.

He can taste blood on his tongue, Adachi’s and his own, and he sits there and admires it as Adachi leaves bites that will surely bruise along his collarbone. And he doesn’t even care (or should he say, he does care, he cares too much, he’s enjoying this). And okay, he’ll admit it, maybe he wants to give the same thing back. At least with Adachi, he shouldn’t have to worry about being rough.

Johnny pushes Adachi’s head back again, and there’s a strange flutter in his stomach at the resulting grin. Like hell if he’s going to feel good about being praised for this, but he can’t pass up the opportunity to test this for himself. When he leans forward, he moves his hips, too, and there’s an uncomfortable friction between the two of them. Adachi lets out some sort of noise he can’t quite place as Johnny rakes his teeth along his collarbone.

This shouldn't feel as good as it does; none of it should feel this good. He shouldn't even be _doing_ this, let alone enjoying it. If Yu found out, or Yosuke, or Naoto, or Sho… Then again, he's already fucked up and he already has a reputation anyway. Why _should_ he stop? It's what everybody expects, even if it shouldn't be. Even if -

There’s a hand on his throat, not squeezing this time but pushing back. Another hand rests on the back of his head, fingers uselessly attempting to twist into his too-short, too-thin hair. He lets his head move back if only to relieve the pressure on his throat, and like a flash Adachi’s got his teeth clamped on his lip. It hurts like hell because he’s pressing exactly where he already bit down earlier and he can feel the blood oozing out of the cut.

Something flickers inside him, some desire once-buried now flaring in the exhilaration of the moment. He wants to pin Adachi back against the tv, wants to _bite_ down on his neck. His fangs are gone, but he can almost feel them now, aching to sink into flesh. He’s sure he’s shaking again, this time with the effort of holding back the very real want to push at Adachi until it _hurts_.

Another bite to his sore lip and he loses control. He tangles one hand in the back of Adachi’s hair and sharply tugs his head back. His other hand digs hard into Adachi’s waist as he clamps his teeth down on his neck. “Fuck-” Adachi gasps, and god does it feel nice for him to sound so surprised.

His teeth don’t break the skin, of course, because his fangs aren’t really there. It’s going to leave one hell of a bruise, though, and that’s fine. There’s still a strange sense of elation to be had from that alone; the part of him worrying about all of this is growing smaller and smaller (and later, later he’s going to be scared of that fact the most).

“What the hell are you doing?” Adachi’s voice is breathy and high-pitched with an amused sort of disbelief.

The rush fades a little and Johnny leans back, swiping a tongue over his bloody lip. “Juuust, you know, uh. Reminiscing about th-the time I was a vampire?” It sounds lame even to his own ears and he winces, letting his hands loosen. Adachi rolls his neck, one hand going to rub at the sore spot. He looks good like this, blood on his lip and small bruises starting to blossom across his collar. They’ll match, at the very least. Sort of.

"I thought the whole drinking blood thing freaked you out. Or did you have a change of heart?"

He decides not to answer that. Something about the silence seems to amuse Adachi and that annoying smirk appears on his face again. "Didn't seem like your kind of thing anyway. You'd rather be the one bitten, wouldn't you?"

Johnny's head jerks, his eyes flicking to the scars on his arms on their own. Yes, he replies in his head. "Fuck you," he replies out loud. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Isn't that what we're here for?" There's that faux innocent look on his face again and Johnny wants to smack it right off. "Or are you content with just the biting?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but his tongue doesn’t want to work. He spends a moment fighting with it while Adachi watches him through hooded eyes. There’s a hand on his back, nails scraping down his spine until it comes to a stop with fingertips dipped just into the waistband of his jeans. “You’re eager to get out of these, aren’t you?” Adachi asks.

Another momentary struggle and then Johnny manages to spit out, “N-not in front of the tv.”

Adachi lets out a bark of laughter. “What, afraid I’ll push you through in the middle of something? Come on, don’t you trust me?” When Johnny answers with just a glare, the grin widens on his face. “You’re breaking my heart here. Okay, you win. Get up.”

Johnny stands on somewhat unsteady legs, then offers a hand to help Adachi up. He’s going to regret this, he thinks as he follows the other man to the bed. He already does, even if he doesn’t at the same time.

Maybe he’ll just stay in his room for the week when he gets back. Nobody else would have to know - and they shouldn’t, they shouldn’t have to. It’s a stupid plan and it won’t work, but it’s the only thing he can cling to that keeps him from bolting out of the room right this moment.

God, he thinks for about the tenth time today. He’s so fucked up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Consider leaving a comment letting me know your thoughts; I'd love to read them!


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